Page 72 of Sins of the Father

At six, our meetings are over. The rest of the staff leaves, and I thank Shira again before she leaves. She gives me a little salute.

I pull my cell out of my pocket. I don’t look at the screen and press the button with my thumb to bypass the security code and go to myFavorites.

My mom answers after one ring. “Steven, why haven’t you called me back?”

The hair on my arms stand up. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve been calling you all day, but it keeps going to your voice mail.”

“And?”

“I want to know when I can see Hope this week. I thought I could bring her to work and show her off to my co-workers.”

Anger flares through my bones. I know what my mother is doing. She’s tried to get Quinn for months to let Maximillion see Hope. Quinn adamantly told her no. But my mom won’t stop. Maximillion says he wants to see his granddaughter, and my mother does whatever he wants.

And it’ll be over my dead body before that happens.

“I know what you’re trying to do, Mom, and the answer is no. You can see Hope at the penthouse. That’s it. If you ever bring Maximillion around Hope, I’ll make sure Quinn knows.”

“You’re being—”

“Enough,” I bark. “And tell that scumbag to stop sending me information on his campaign and contacting me.”

“Steven, what did he send you?” my mother quietly asks.

“All the finances on his campaign.”

Silence.

The bad feeling I had yesterday comes racing back. “What are you involved in, Mom?”

“N-nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.”

“Then what do you know that you shouldn’t?”

“I have to go. Tell Harper I’ll text her to visit with Hope sometime this week after work.”

“Mom, I’m worried—”

“Have a good night, Steven.” The phone goes dead.

What has that bastard gotten my mom involved in?

I toss the phone on my desk and stare at the ceiling, my stomach in knots.

My entire life, I’ve tried to look out for my mom. But once Maximillion dug his claws back into her, there was no way to stop the destruction.

I spend the next few hours trying to concentrate on the work I’m still behind on, but I have a hard time. When I finally leave, it’s past eleven o’clock. As soon as I get in the car, I pull my phone out and check my messages.

Harper sent a few funny text messages earlier in the morning with pictures of her and Hope, which make me smile. Then I read the rest, and my gut sinks.

I forgot about dinner. And she messaged me, asking if I would still be home around seven. She also left me a voice mail around nine.

She softly says, “Hey. I don’t want to bug you, but if you’re going to be at the office all night, do you want me to bring you some food? Assuming you’re still at the office. Ummm...okay. Bye.”

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